


Even If You Want Me To

by sickly _sweet (sketchy_and_unformed)



Category: CKY (Band)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Double Drabbles, F/M, M/M, Sex, Songfic, five times fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-26
Updated: 2008-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketchy_and_unformed/pseuds/sickly%20_sweet
Summary: Five times Deron was almost saved. Songfic double drabbles.
Relationships: Chad Ginsburg/Deron Miller, Deron Miller/Felissa Rose, Deron Miller/Jess Margera, Deron Miller/Tim Yeung
Kudos: 1
Collections: Livejournal reposts: CKY/HIM





	Even If You Want Me To

**Mercy** _(Chad/Deron)  
_

_Don't lose all faith 'cause you shake at night_  
_It's in the art of the process_

_It's mercy you're asking for, cheating life by taking more_  
\--Paradise Lost

  
  
His eyes are pleading with me but I have no idea what he’s asking for. I’ve known the fucker for too damn long, must be going on ten years, but communication is not exactly his strong point. Deron’s eyes are full of need and his nails are digging into my shoulders, there’s sweat pouring off of him and I’m fucking him hard and nasty, slamming my hips tight up against him with every fierce drive forward.  
  
He shakes and breaks against me and cracks along every fault line when he comes, shouting it out like a curse, all blasphemy and grit in his voice like a badly scratched record. I slide out and let myself collapse to the mattress, feeling the stiffness in my arms and the burn along my thighs. Deron’s already lighting a cigarette by the time I open my eyes and blink away the sting of sweat, and I’m sure there’s a bottle of something cheap and strong not far away.  
  
His eyes are closed now but I can’t forget the way he was looking at me, like desperation, and the words just sigh out of him, deflating him when he says, “Please just _forgive_ me, Chad.”  
  
  
  
**Loverman** _(Jess/Deron)  
_

_There's a devil lying by your side_  
_You might think he's asleep_  
_but look at his eyes_

_How much longer?_  
\--Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

  
  
Deron’s face is buried in the pillows but I can feel him moving against my strokes, flexing muscles beneath the skin as I work myself into the tight centre of him. There’s never enough room in the bunks for this.  
  
I’m buzzed on free beer from the after-party but so much about this situation is not right at all but I’m still doing it.  
  
There’s an evil inside Deron that scares me, seeing my best friend eaten away from the inside out until it shows itself in bloodshot eyes and nervous tics, smell of whiskey souring his breath every time he doesn’t let me kiss him.  
  
I’m draped all over him and fucking him like this could make a difference, shallow and slow so I can feel every hot inch of him around me, fucking him like I could save him from his demons somehow. Pouring my heart into him like this could heal him if he let it. Stubble burn on his ass cheeks and my calloused hand on his dick as if this could be love if he wanted it to be.  
  
I’d give everything to him but it would never be enough to chase that devil away.  
  
  
  
**And There Will Your Heart Be Also** _(Felissa/Deron)  
_

_You're here to stay_  
_Stay here in paradise_

_I'd end this moment to be with you_  
\--Fields Of The Nephilim

  
  
He looks almost angelic when he’s sleeping, a cliché but it’s true enough. The night smoothes away all of his surface imperfections, and the storm inside of him subsides just enough to let him dream, sometimes.  
  
There are things I know about Deron that I wish I didn’t, but at the same time they make me feel closer to him. True love is being able to stare into that abyss without flinching, without wanting to take that step backwards to safety.  
  
He makes love to me like he’s holding something back, gentle but it feels unsafe on some deeper level. His hands barely skimming my body but almost plunging straight through the skin all the same. Kisses like tiny electric charges, sparks passing from his lips into my waiting mouth. I smell his hair and close my eyes and when he comes he presses his mouth against my neck and almost bites down, almost.  
  
I watch over him while he sleeps afterwards. My breathing slowly evens out to synchronise with his, and I wait for him to come back to me because I know that he will. We are connected, and I will catch him if he ever falls completely.  
  
  
  
**Rush** _(Tim/Deron)  
_

_I'm not proud of what I do_  
_When I come up_  
_When I rush_  
_I rush for you_  
\--Depeche Mode

  
  
It’s an act fuelled by adrenaline and too much beer, the taste of it chased down my throat by his tongue, fingers all over me and pulling. Deron’s sloppy drunk and I guess I am too; there’s a definite spinning sensation and my limbs feel fluid when he pushes me down and I topple. Feels like I could fall forever.  
  
I can hardly breathe with the way he’s attacking me with lips, teeth, hands pushing through my hair and catching in the tangles. It’s probably a timing thing, is what it is.  
  
His pulse kicks hard against my mouth and his hands are on my cock, everything still spinning like crazy and I could almost throw up but I suck on his fingers until the feeling is gone and bite down on my own lips when I feel him pushing inside me because spit does not make good lube. I open my eyes and his pupils are huge in the semi-dark, backstage and carpet burning against my skin.  
  
Deron’s fucking me into the floor and everything feels like it’s burning, he’s a weight on my chest pushing me down, hands on my shoulders pulling and we might fall forever down.  
  
  
  
**Don’t Fall Asleep** _(Chad/Deron)  
_

_Time stands still in this chamber of pain_

  
_Lie down because you'll never leave_  
_Lie down, but don't fall asleep_  
\--Swallow The Sun

  
  
He’s started keeping his eyes closed instead, lips parted around groans that aren’t really words. I don’t know how long we’ve been here. Forever, maybe.  
  
Face up on some cheap motel bed, pain and pleasure are starting to look the same in his face.  
  
Through the walls I can hear television sets, freeway traffic. Try to tune it out because Deron isn’t reacting to it and the way he feels, he needs this too much; me and all my anger and dirt, trace of blood on the backs of his thighs later in a shower that barely works.  
  
Can’t stay here much longer but his eyes are closed like he’s never going to open them again. I slap him backhanded and he gasps sharp but they don’t open. I try to make it hurt, me screwing him with a hand pushing down on his throat until he chokes out my name. His head slams up against the headboard when he comes and his mouth falls open so wide but not the eyes, as if this is some test that I’ve failed.  
  
He’s not crying but I can’t let him fall asleep here, can’t let him believe that he can stay.


End file.
